Are We Monsters?
by Jokersmalice
Summary: Anne Zaro was certainly one of the most 'interesting' patients in Arkham. She was so young, but her intellegence and psychological disorder were exetremely underestimated. When she collides with the clown prince of crime, sparks fly.  Not a love story!


They called me a _monster_. They called me a _freak_. They called me a _murderer_. They called me _insane_. All because I killed my parents.

But what they didn't know was that I wasn't any of those things. I was just ahead of them. I was _independent_. I was _sensible_. I was a _mastermind_, but they didn't get it. None of them got the joke; that _they_ were the ones who were insane.

I tried to tell them that, but they wouldn't listen to me. Why would they? I was just another psychopath locked up in Arkham Asylum. _Society had it all wrong. _

But all that changed in one seemingly insignificant day. I met someone who could laugh at the joke.

When I woke up in the morning, the first thing I saw was the grey cement ceiling, as usual, but something wasn't right. I could feel it.

Something was _off_.

Almost like something sensed my uneasiness, someone started humming _you are my sunshine_.

Sitting up, the cot squeaked and a voice to the right of me said, "I see you've woken up."

I looked around; the glass wall that led to the front corridor of Arkham was empty except for the other patients who were still sleeping. As far as I knew, I was the only one on this side of the room, so I was a bit disturbed.

"Come on, don't be shy!" It was a man's voice.

Slowly getting up from the cot, I cautiously made my way over to my locker where I kept my journal, clothes, and a plastic spork which I had placed in there in case the guards or any of the other patients tried anything. I wasn't really sure why I did, but that was always my first reaction when something unusual happened.

The voice definitely came from somewhere close, but I couldn't see him.

"Where are you?" I asked, quite hesitantly.

"There's a hole in the corner." I already knew it was there.

"Oh, well then."

I walked over to the far corner and sat in front of it. There was a green eye peering through, right at me, and I couldn't help but smile.

The hole was no bigger than a quarter, but it was better than nothing.

The eye moved out from in front of the hole.

"Why are you in here missy?" The voice said. That's when I recognized it. The tones that crossed between high and low and the joyous undertone of every word belonged to a man who dominated the news.

He called himself Joker, the clown prince of crime. He had caused so much… chaos. It was unbelievable! & they had caught him again. No, Batman had finally caught him again.

I had seen the guards rolling him into the intense treatment ward numerous times.

Remembering the white-skinned, green-haired man I had watched from the inside of my cell, I played it dumb and asked, "Did Batman finally catch up to you?"

"Ahhh, yes. He _caught_ me, _again_." The sarcasm in his voice was ridiculous.

"How is he doing?"

"Batsy? He's turning, he'll become just like us soon enough."

"_Us_? Really? You don't know me."

"Anne Zaro, fourteen, patient number seventy-three. Eyes: Brown. Hair: Brown. Crime; the Double homicide of her parents with a kitchen knife, which was actually quite creative if I say so myself. Psychiatrist: Dr. Harleen Quinzel-we have something in common- and now Dr. Smit. Diagnosis: Early signs of sociopathic tendencies. Other: She seems to enjoy the thought of becoming a professional criminal when or if she gets out. Also, her treatments seem to only 'plunge her deeper into the rabbit hole that is her mind', to put it in her words. Oh, and your birthday's in three days. Hm."

I stayed silent. It sounded like he was reading my wrap-sheet or something.

"I know you better than you know yourself. Like that pretty little scar of yours was not caused by your father like you testified; you made it yourself."

Now I was stunned! I didn't tell anybody what really happened!

I had carved a heart into my cheek the day of their murders. I traced the bubbly flesh with my fingers as I began to ask, "How did you-"

"Know? You have been the most interesting patient in Arkham for a while. I have been keeping tabs on you since I first heard about you."

I was having trouble comprehending what was happening. How did he _hear of_ me? How did he know all of this stuff?

"You-since you heard of me? From who?"

"I have contacts you know."

"_Contacts_?"

"People in places."

Then I got it. "Like _Harley_?"

Harley as in Harley Quinn, his sidekick, no, wanna-be lover. She was infatuated with him. She was actually my doctor for a short time before she left. She helped him escape and has been fallowing him like a dog ever since.

"Yes, Harley, Harley, Harley. Talking about her, she should be here in a little while so I really should start preparing."

"Preparing for what?"

He whispered, "She's gonna bust me out again," then laughed his insane, loud, strangely cheerful laugh. That sent chills down my spine.

My manner turned desperate as my mind reeled and the words came out before I could really think them through, "Take me with you!"

He stopped laughing and everything was silent. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm dying in here! I don't want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life! Geniuses like us don't deserve to be treated like this!"

"Geniuses, huh?" He sounded like he would actually consider it.

"Yes! Please!" For the first time in my life I actually had to beg for something.

"I'll think about it."

I sighed and laid down on the cold floor and closed my eyes.

_I actually might be able to get out of here!_

There was a really loud buzzing noise that I recognized as one of the cell doors opening and sat up, only to realize that it was time for my treatment.

Dr. Smit and the guard stepped into the cell calmly. They never thought that I was a hazard, so they didn't strap me down to my bed like they had in the first couple weeks I was here.

"What's up doc?" I asked, getting up and letting the guard and Dr. Smit come into my cell.

After another very loud buzzing noise, my door closed and the doctor sat down on my bed.

I joined him and asked, "What now?"

"More psychotherapy, Anne, like always."

"Awwww, I was looking forward to more ink blotches! Like that one that looked like a smiling cow and skull bleeding out of its nose! What about the one that looked like my cat that I had when I was four?"

"Stop the joking."

"Why? It's so fun!" That was the way I always acted that way. & also, I found that if I did, the sessions were shorter.

He sighed and pulled out his clipboard and a pen.

The pen, it was new.

"What's up with the pen?"

"What about it?"

"It's a different one."

"You noticed."

"Of course I did."

My mind started formulating for no reason and I found myself planning to escape.

I laughed, cause it was a stupid plan, but I was going to try it anyways.

"What's so funny?" The guard asked.

"Tell 'em Joker!" I said, getting up from the bed and standing over Dr. Smit.

"Did someone say my name?" Joker said from the other room. I knew it would distract them.

Both Dr. Smit and the guard turned towards the door and before either of them could react, I grabbed the pen, shoved it into the doctor's arm and then turned and kicked the guard in a place where the sun don't shine.

He fell to his knees and Dr. Smit stumbled onto his feet behind me.

I turned and punched him in the face with my white knuckles.

"What's going on in there?" Joker asked.

I thought for a moment, shaking off the pain in my hand, "I'm just moving out, that's all." Kicking the guard again-this time in the stomach- and then pulling the remote to the door out of his chest pocket, Joker said, "Moving eh? I guess I'll see you soon then."

"Soon?" I pushed a couple buttons before hitting the one that opened my door.

"Yea, soon."

The buzzing noise came again and I dropped the remote and ran out into the giant room.

All of the other patients were now watching me intently through their glass cells and I said, "Sorry guys, I gotta go!"

Then I ran over the grey bolted door that I knew led out to the check-in place and banged on the door.

It was probably a stupid idea to do that, but I did.

"_Breech in sector A2_," The computer voice over the loudspeakers triggered an alarm and a very loud beeping sound started going off.

I could hear Joker's laugh and then him saying, "Better luck next time! Missy, you should've kept the remote!"

"_Breech in sector A2._"

"There she is!" More guards started running out from the door on the other side and I just sighed and put my hands up.

"I surrender." They grabbed me and shackled my hands behind my back.

"You know what this means Anne." Everyone in there knew my name, I had been in all of the wards, and talked to all of the patients. They all seemed to take a liking to me, maybe because I was a girl, the only in here besides Poison Ivy.

The guards led me by my arms back across the room as the alarm stopped.

"Yes, I'm going to be moved." Then I realized that I was going to be put in the isolation ward, away from Joker! _Away from my only way to escape_!

"W-WAIT! I DIDN'T MEAN IT! JUST PUT ME BACK!" I screamed, but they ignored, dragging me down the gloomy hallway with computer screens on the ceiling every five feet or so.

"NO JUST-JUST- I PROMISE I'LL BE GOOD! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"

We arrived at the door to isolation and I screamed one more time, "NOOOOOO!"

They shoved me in and slammed the door, leaving me with nothing but padded walls and one blinding light on the ceiling.

I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my face. I had ruined my only chance of leaving this stupid place.

It was a stupid idea, I was stupid.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

I cried and cried, feeling sorry for myself for I don't know long, well until I fell asleep.

I had a brief dream that Joker opened the door and waltzed with me in the middle of Arkham to the music of Batman screaming as he hung upside with the metal rope digging deeper into his flesh, which was really weird, but it was better than most of my other dreams.

When I awoke, I was sweating all over and my shackles were gone. The guards must have come while I was asleep.

There was a plate of food at my feet and I stared at it as my stomach growled. The food here was gross, but it was the only food we ever got.

After a minute and a half, I picked up the spork and began poking at the mashed potatoes that were oddly soft.

Then, I tried to scoop some up, but I hit something hard. Even for asylum food, that wasn't normal.

I cleared the food off this little device about size of my fingernail with a trigger on the side. It was somewhat flat and black.

After examining it for a moment, I came to the conclusion that it was defiantly electric and was going to cause a spark if I pushed the trigger.

I just wanted to try it so I slid it into the little slot between two giant cushions where the hinges to the door out were.

After pushing the trigger, I ran to the other side of the room and buried my head in my arms.

There was a low beep and then a tiny blast as it blew up and I heard the hinges drop off.

I wasn't really worried about who sent me the device, all I was worried about was what I was going to do after I opened the door.

I went with the spontaneous and decided to wing it, even though I knew it was probably even stupider than trying to escape.

Pushing the door open, I cautiously peered out and was surprised to find that no one was there. No guards, no nothing.

I walked out into the hall and around the corner, into the room where all the cells were.

Joker was standing in the doorway to the front desk wearing a purple suit with an orange coat and green tie, which really brought out his pasty white skin and green hair and eyes. He was pushing a really thin girl in a mini-skirt, corset top, and blonde pigtails off of him.

"Harley, I don't have time for this! We have to go!" He sounded irritated.

"But puddin'-"

"Come on before Batsy comes!"

"You gonna bring me?" I called across the room.

Both Joker and Harley turned to me and stopped their bickering. Harley had on her white makeup with the black super-hero-looking mask.

"Who's that?" Harley hissed.

Joker grinned and replied, "Anne."

"Is that a yes or no?" I asked sarcastically, briskly walking across the room.

"So you are smart, you could useful…"

"Mister J! I don't like her!" Harley whined.

"You'll get used to me!" I happily remarked.

"Harley, you know I'd never do anything to hurt you!" Joker said.

"Thanks!" Harley hugged him and Joker winked at me.

"Now ladies, let's go!"

All three of us walked through the building like it was nothing and the whole place was deserted. I didn't ask why simply because I didn't need to know.

By the time we got out into the night air, Harley had a pouty face on and Joker looked slightly irritated.

We walked over the gravel road, me in my bare feet, over to a black van. Joker went over to the driver's seat while Harley opened up the back.

"I guess you can sit back here with me," she said as she climbed in.

"Good. I _really_ needed your approval for that," I replied jokingly, climbing in after her.

The back of the van was empty, so Harley and I sat with our backs against the sides, across from each other.

She glared at me as the Joker started the car.

We stared at each other for nearly the whole ride, well, until Joker said, "Stop glaring at each other!"

Then, Harley just stared at her hands as I got lost in my thoughts.

I really wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation. I was sitting in a van with Gotham's most wanted criminal and his little pet.

Ha, she was his pet. Harley did hang on his every word. _Passionate dreamers, how they entertained me. _

_Entertaining… the world was just a show put on for one another. Everything we did was with everyone else in the back of our twisted minds. We do so much to please others. But why? Because we strive for their appreciation? For acceptance? What was it for?_

_What was it for?_

_I never did that. Everything I did was with myself in mind, not anybody else. Didn't I?_

To be continued.

Preview:

She arrived in the middle of the night to a place a lot different from home.

She had no idea what would happen there, and what had happened there.

All she knew, was she was with people she thought she could trust.

But why trust a joke?


End file.
